Wanderlust Heaven!

Back in Boston now. Head still spinning from an eventful – and quite rewarding – reunion weekend in Virginia. Now I’d have a week to spend with my family and friends in Boston – it looked to be a hectic stretch of time.

My Dad and stepmother got ticket to the Red Sox game on Monday, which was Patriots Day. One of the very best days to be in Boston – besides the fact that there’s a Sox game that day every year at 11:05 a.m. (and not a minute earlier), the Boston Marathon is run that day…and this year the Celtics and Bruins were also playing that day. Boston sports junkyism at its zenith. My dad’s friend Dave Wolf got us the tickets, a couple years ago he did the same. Dave’s probably my father’s funniest friend. Of course, the only time I see him is when we’re sucking down beers at Fenway; still, I’ve gotta go with what I see.

After the game, which we won handily, we went over to Kenmore Square to watch the marathon. The front-runners had already finished, but it was still good to watch the pack coming through Kenmore, close to the finish line. I recalled the 3 marathons I’d run in Boston, how brutal they were, and wondered if I’d ever do another. My father is vowing to walk the course next year…one of these years when I can see that far ahead, I’ll train and run another. It is a signal accomplishment in life, methinks. The only real hitch, aside from the demands of training and actually running the race, is that old Japanese saying about climbing Mt. Fuji: climbing it once is glorious, climbing it twice is stupid. There’s something to that.

Two guys running the marathon were dressed as huge beer cups. My father laughed like crazy when he spotted them – I did the same. I don’t know how those two ran 26 miles to that point – I complained during one race that my sweat-soaked shirt was too heavy.

A fine day in Boston, one of the best in years. Boston is a pleasant place and while it’s not New York in all its mad glory, there are things going on from time to time.

When I’m home I have a lengthy set of things to take care of. On Tuesday I started tackling that list. First up: my annual physical exam, the last of which was, of course, two years ago. That went fine, no issues. My doctor was far more interested in hearing about my travels and (lack of) plans than in the usual battery of tests. And I was happy to chat if he was – I had pulled up to a metered parking space outside the office, and when I looked at the meter I found it still had two hours to go. Cool – I could preserve my precious quarters for later.

Read in Wired magazine that Dungeons & Dragons rule set 4.0 is about to come out. D&D was a teenage obsession of mine, until girls and beer took over. The article mentioned founder Gary Gygax, a name I hadn’t heard in many moons. I wonder how D&D is doing in our wired age…when I was in high school there was already a game, Wizardry, which attempted with some success to be a computerized D&D. These days there must be some incredible offerings – but I wonder if they’re as simple and playable as the games of yore. As I think I’ve written in earlier posts, I would love to get my hands on some old games like Castle Wolfenstein, Archon, Borg, and the Intellivision sports games. I heard about a store in NYC called Video Games New York on East 6^th Street, and wanted to pop in there, but didn’t have time this trip. More on this a bit later in the post…

After watching the marathon, I felt inspired to go for a run myself – I’ve been a bit lax in the past month or two. Went for my usual run through Newton Center and back. Had my iPod Shuffle cranked as I plodded up the hills, looking every bit as spent as those I’d just seen in Boston, they of course having been through 20+ miles while I’d just put in a couple. A car pulled up on the other side of the road and a girl leaned out and shouted something; as I passed by I only caught a couple words, ‘where is X?’ I looked at her with supreme malice and contempt and, as she was in moving traffic, she had to drive on. I continued plodding along, shaking my head. Did this girl really want me to give her directions? A girl, in moving traffic, shouting to a visibly exhausted runner with headphones on. Perhaps I misinterpreted what was happening, but I doubt it. Americans must be getting more stupid – every time I’m home I gather more evidence.

Went over to my sister’s family’s house the next night, to spend a couple days/nights with them. My brother-in-law and nephew were home when I got there, and we spend an hour or so listening to the songs on his new iPod, while my nephew danced joyously around a table. I think I’ve called my brother-in-law, Dave, a human iPod in past entries, and it continues to be true – you never know what song he’ll be cueing up. He’s taught his son, my nephew, a bunch of songs and the little guy can actually sing along with some of them. It’s pretty cool to see him dancing around singing. As for me, well, I’m pretty much confined to karaoke parlors out East…

That night we watched the returns from the Pennsylvania state primary for the Democratic nomination for US President. Hillary Clinton won and lived to fight another day. Talk about a complex and shifting situation – even though the campaign is already 15 or so months along and occasionally in danger of getting annoying, it is fascinating to step back and see where we’ve been and consider what might happen next. I have absolutely no idea who will be our next President of the three candidates remaining. Regular readers know I’m a fan of Obama’s, but it’s by no means in the bag. A year ago I thought Hillary was a shoe-in and that didn’t happen. I wonder what the online market-prediction websites are saying these days?

While we were playing on the couch my nephew asked me ‘do you have a home?’ I thought that was pretty random/funny/fascinating…how perceptive of the little grommet. Once in a while I hear from my brother-in-law or sister that my nephew saw a TV program on, say, Australia, and he says ‘Uncle Mike!’ But I really had no idea he had any semblance of a narrative about me in his head. I didn’t bother to explain my various peregrinations to him, not yet – but at this rate he’ll be able to absorb my peculiar sort of story soon enough. Well done, little guy.

Wasn’t able to get online using my laptop and their Ethernet plug, but with Dave’s help I found that the Holliston Public Library had wireless. Drove over there – and it worked like a charm. This library’s network was one of the fastest I’ve come across – I ripped some CDs onto iTunes and also bought a few albums, and everything downloaded in a couple minutes or less.

Went with my sister to watch my nephew take a swimming lesson at the YMCA. He’s making solid progress – until recently he didn’t like getting his head wet, now he’s jumping off the diving board.

After that, went to the Hopkinton Library, close to my sister’s house, and they also had a good wireless setup. I silently thanked the public library system – before today, I hadn’t been in a (public) library in years, and would have told you that they were an anachronism. Now I feel differently – besides my emergency wireless gig, I saw folks in there reading magazines and the newspaper, kids borrowing books, and small-town life in general.

Had dinner that night with the boys – Dave, my nephew, and my father. Went to a family-style steak place, Bugaboo Creek, with the requisite massive portions that have contributed to our national obesity epidemic. That night I was famished and happy to partake in the gluttony. But a meal like that wipes me out – I almost never eat steak, and although I enjoy it I’m ready to lie down right afterward, hands clasped over my gut, sleeping like a mummy. Not the sort of mummy from The Book of Dave, mind you…

Got my teeth cleaned the next day – got a clean dental bill of health. Worked on getting an absentee ballot for this November’s presidential vote – managed to find an online form and sent that in. We’ll see whether the timing of my mail actually allows me to receive/send the ballot on time.

Had dinner with a former colleague. We’ve managed to meet each time I come to Boston; I enjoy catching up with him. We usually meet at pricey restaurants and drink our fair share of booze. We met at Sorrelina’s, where we met last time. This place is very chi-chi, has a beautiful bar (and bartenders), and my friend’s a regular so he knows everyone there. We devoured a great veal chop and drank Maker’s Mark (well, I did) and some nice wines. The restaurant section was pretty empty – one of the waiters who knew my friend told us the recession was hitting them hard. A couple female friends of his stopped in – they work in the restaurant biz and are oenophiles/cognoscenti – lots of fun to talk to. One asked me what I was reading – I told her I had become a huge Salman Rushdie fan since finding ‘Midnight’s Children’ in my cheapie hotel room in Hanoi. She mentioned the fatwa that Khomeini put on Rushdie way back when…we talked about that for a while. She asked us if her jeans made her look fatwa – hence the title of this slog entry. Promises are promises…

Next day, awoke with a significant hangover, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Had to go to a lab to get my blood and urine tested, a standard follow-up to the physical I’d had earlier. I wondered how the Maker’s Mark and red wine would affect my readings…but I didn’t really care. Another chore to tackle and it was soon done.

Also had to see my accountant again – this time, to complete my 2007 taxes and sign the forms. She told me she had some bad news – I owed a good chunk of change this year, due to some capital gains from Asia. Ugh. I guess it’s not truly bad news, I made a lot of dosh from those trades and paying 15% tax on them isn’t armaggedon. Still, last year she only asked me for US$20, so this was a rude surprise.

Went to the New Balance outlet in Brighton. Got a great pair of running shoes for $50 and was out of there in 10 minutes. Male shopping at its best.

Got home. The phone rang, my stepmother got it. The caller asked for me…my stepmother asked who it was. The caller was evasive, but it turned out she was from the Church of Scientology. Random. My father was in the room, and we all had a good laugh over that. Where the bejesus did the Scientologists get my name and telephone number? Tom Cruise and I haven’t hung out in years…

That night, met some college friends at Crossroads Pub in Boston. This place is an old standby and I’ve been going there for 20+ years. They refurbished the interior fairly recently, but unlike some other joints I’ve seen, they didn’t overdo it and it retains a pleasantly pedestrian feel. Low overhead, my man. Had a great night catching up with the boys – they don’t seem to get together that much when I’m not in town, so I feel like I’m performing a public service by forcing them all into the same room. Moved on to Match bar after that, a far different sort of place where people dress up and pay substantially more for the same drinks. Market segmentation, indeed.

I didn’t quite drink my fill, as I had to get up early to play golf with my dad. Got to sleep around 2:30 or so, got up at 7:30, and felt alright. As usual, I’d had 5-6 glasses of water before bed and that does it for me.

Had a good round of golf. My dad and I are about even, so the pace isn’t strained. As usual, I intersperse a few nice shots with a bunch of pathetic ones. But it’s nice to be outside, the weather was cool and clear, and it was good to spend time with my dad.

My uncle and aunt came to visit us that weekend. Hadn’t seen them in a few years – they look good. Went out that night with them, my sister’s family, and some of my stepmother’s relatives, to Legal Seafood, where I consumed a massive bowl of clam chowder and a plate of grilled mixed fish. Dad picked up the bill – that can’t have been fun. But the dinner was excellent and it’s (usually) nice to get the gang together in the same room.

My week at home was drawing to a close. Had to do a few final tasks, including backing up my computer and smartphone data. Turns out the external hard drive I leave in Newton only has 60 gig capacity, I had thought it was 80 gigs. So I moved some old crap onto CDs and that did the trick…the only issue is that moving the files took a couple hours and that screwed up my morning. Oh well. I had enough time to take care of everything. Made a mental note to buy a couple huge hard drives during my next trip home – now they’re so massive, and so inexpensive, that it makes sense to buy ‘em.

Dropped some stuff off in my storage room, then came back home. Dad and Ellen had a BBQ for us, my sister’s family, and my aunt (Dad’s sister) and uncle. Huge meal – lots of meat – very drinkable Aussie shiraz. I swear I’ve had more meat since I got home than I had in my entire 5 months in India. The volume has been a bit of a shock to the system, but I must admit my carnivorous (omnivorous, actually) nature and I’d have a tough time enjoying life as a vegetarian…

Dropped off my rental car in Boston that night. Owed nothing – my AMEX Membership Rewards coupons took care of the whole bill. I’m very glad to still have loads of these points remaining – they really soften the pain of large car rental and hotel bills.

Caught up with another former colleague and his wife, at Beantown Pub on Tremont Street. They’re from Manila and we had lots of RP stuff to talk about. I’m going back there shortly to see a young lady and do some diving – they’re staying in Boston another year. They originally came intending to stay for one year, but now it looks like three. Anyway, they’re enjoying it – Boston and Manila are pretty different places – and getting a lot out of it professionally. His wife is a doctor and is working on a clinical trial in Boston.

Took the train back to Newton that night. Saw a girl reading ‘Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail ‘72’ by the dearly departed and greatly mourned Dr. Hunter S. Thompson. Made a mental note to liberate my Thompson books from storage on my next visit home. I’m actually still working through a backlog of books accumulated during my years in Tokyo – this time I’m taking 7-8 back to Asia with me, and I think my next trip (assuming I don’t order more books) I can polish off the rest. Amazon.com, I both bless and curse ye…

On Monday morning dad drove me to South Station in Boston. Got on a train to Bridgeport, Connecticut to see my business school friend Jan. He collected me at the train station, showed me around his family factory/HQ, and then we drove to his new house to see his wife and baby daughter. Had a couple glasses of wine, shot the breeze with them, and then Jan drove me to the train station so I could continue on to New York, where I’d spend a night before flying to Hong Kong.

Dropped my stuff off at old friend Bryan’s pad in Tribeca. He’s in the process of moving to a much larger place, but for now he and his wife are crammed into a studio. They were gracious enough to let me crash on their (soft) couch. More than sufficient. I went out to Half King Bar on 23^rd Street to see my cousins and a couple old friends I hadn’t seen in 10+ years. Large drinking ensued. I wound up at some bar in Tribeca at 2:30 a.m., having a good heart-to-heart with Bryan, who had his own tales to tell. I’m glad he and I have remained close over the years. To be accurate, though, we had a stretch where we weren’t very much in contact – perhaps it was because we were such good friends at college and got tired of each other, I don’t know. Anyway, a few years ago we both seemed to have realized that we enjoy each other’s company and have so many old war stories to share, and now we’re good friends again. Life is long.

Crashed on the couch – Bryan told me the next day that I fell asleep within seconds. I was flying to Hong Kong that afternoon, but in my usual fashion I’d crammed a morning meeting in. An old manager of mine wanted me to meet a consumer trends guru named Faith Popcorn, and I trust my old manager completely, so I had set up meetings with Faith and her director of consulting. Put on my white oxford and, after breakfast with Bryan (also not working – I think we help reinforce each other’s baser tendencies), I took a cab to the Faith Popcorn Brain Reserve offices in midtown. Had interesting meetings with Faith and her colleague – they are thinking about expanding into Asia and need someone to take that on for them. They understand my current situation, which precludes working more than 17 minutes per week, but we’ll stay in touch and perhaps create some sort of low-intensity model. It was interesting for me to reflect on my performance in these meetings – I don’t have many business meetings anymore and occasionally wonder if I’m losing my edge. I tend to doubt it – I still have lots of conversations, and some of them, in odd lands, require a decent degree of mental acuity. So the brain isn’t winding down, at least not yet.

Got on my Cathay Pacific flight to HKG. Not a full flight, so I got an entire row to myself. Cathay is a brilliant airlines, I wish the US airlines were so pleasant and efficient. Worked through my pile of New Yorker magazines, then tackled my Lonely Planet Mongolia guide. I’m planning (after a few weeks spread across HKG and the RP) to visit Mongolia with a former colleague who’s now based in Shanghai. Mongolia is truly out there, not an easy place to pop into and get a quick sense of things, so some research is required. But it should be quite an experience – I’ve always wondered what the hell Ulaan Bataar, the capital city, is like. Mongolia has 3 million people and is 2 or 3 times the size of France. I can’t wait.

A guy across the aisle turned out his laptop. He started playing a computer game that looked familiar – it was Lode Runner, a game I used to play on my old Apple II+ back in the late ’80s. My old roommate, codenamed Dr. Bol, used to play it on my computer for hours on end – he had lost his job and had nothing to do. I think he got through something like 65 levels of the game and was nearing the level of Lode Runner god before he moved to Washington and found work. They’ve evidently created a version that works on modern computers – and back to my earlier point, I’d love to find versions of other classic games. Next time I’m in NYC I plan to visit that games store – but if you have any idea where these games still exist, let me know. I do have a bit of time on my hands. Over and out.

I had a couple more days and nights in Cebu before heading off to the States. I quickly found myself missing new girlfriend Marnely, who had taken good care of me in Dumaguete. It looked pretty likely that I’d be back that way before long, so I didn’t fret – just had some lascivious daydreams.

While I rode in a taxi from the ferry boat to my hotel, I saw a guy dressed like Santa taking a shit behind a pile of garbage. That warranted a second look…my eyes weren’t deceiving me. I told you that Catholicism in the Philippines was entirely different from our version…

The larger point, though, is that the country is poor, Cebu has lots of beggars, and while it’s easy to stay within the walls of your hotel or airconditioned shopping mall, the true story is to be found on the streets. You may not want to confront reality 24/7, but you should make sure to do it every day for at least a little while. Keep it real.

Did my usual slew of errands during my one full day in town. Went to the two big scuba shops – ScubaWorld and White Tip. Picked up a coil lanyard for my underwater camera case, and also a little compass that might come in handy one day – below or above water. Did some laundry. Reconfirmed my flight bookings. Made a hotel booking for my next trip to Cebu. Finally, washed my backpack thoroughly, with soap and sponge – I tend to do this right before I head to the States, so that what I bring home isn’t too grungy. It’s surprising how clean my pack still looks – I guess I’ve been good about washing it off regularly.

Was staying at the Kiwi Lodge, a great hotel I’ve often frequented. The only drawback is that it’s not that easy to go for a run on the surrounding streets, but it’s possible and tonight I went for it. It was godawful hot and I wilted pretty quickly. I probably only ran a couple miles before slowing to a walk and hoofing it back to the hotel. Still, it was much better than nothing and keeps me in the game. I figured that a couple weeks in the States would fatten me up and I wanted to start the process in decent shape.

Of course, my internal inconsistencies immediately posed obstacles. I went to Our Place for a few beers and to see who was holding court there. Fell into a long conversation with the owner, Eddie, a Belgian rake who’s fathered 13 kids and claims to be in close contact with them all…and to help support all of them as well. That sounds like a lot of work. Noticed a New Hampshire state license plate hanging on the wall – ‘Live Free or Die’ is the state motto and I’ve always laughed when driving behind people from NH.

Took a cab back uptown. Watched people along the way, and smiled at a few. Filipinos might look at foreigners like they’re crazy, but give them a smile and they smile right back…unlike many Indians. In India you come to feel that you actually might be the crazy/weird one, but in the Phils. it’s a fleeting sensation…

Popped into El Gecko, where my friend Lyte used to work. She’s not there anymore, but there are usually a few characters sitting at the bar and a few cuties behind it. Tonight was no exception…I wound up having an in-depth talk with a homely Japanese girl who was studying English at one of the local English-for-foreigners schools, which are big business in Cebu.

We both agreed that the Koreans who come to Cebu are a joke – they take their father’s money to study English, but never go to class, instead hanging out in the casinos and girlie bars. Which, to be honest, is a lot more fun than going to any class I can imagine. But still, it’s hard to put these Korean ‘students’ in a positive light – even in the bars and casinos, they’re zero fun. They keep to themselves, aren’t able to banter, and smoke incessantly. And they all wear eyeglasses – are contact lenses unavailable in Korea? Instead of signing up for English class, I think a short course in style might be in order…

Hopefully that didn’t sound overtly anti-Korean – there are lots of cool Koreans out there. It’s just that the ones who I come across in Cebu need some work.

I had fun chatting with the Japanese girl – as I mentioned, she wasn’t much to look at so I was able to focus on actual topics. I told her I lived in Tokyo for a few years, spoke some Japanese to her, and apparently demonstrated substantial knowledge of her country, because she constantly made a very Japanese exclamation – sort of like a lengthy ‘mmmmmmmm.’ I like getting that noise – like most people, I suppose, I like to have broad knowledge and to get confirmation of that from people who actually know what they’re talking about…

Walked over to a nearby go-go bar, Lone Star. This place is usually good for a laugh or two – the bartenders are a riot and the onstage talent is OK. Tonight the place was full of horny old geezers who were all over the dancers and held ‘em in near deathgrips. Poor girls. Poverty indeed makes people desperate.

Noticed the owners/managers from the Kiwi Lodge at the bar – waved to them. Then I took off – had to get up, do a few things, then fly to HKG in the late afternoon.

The next day, I asked for my bill and when it came there were some odd charges on it. Turns out that last year, when I left my charger at the hotel and the owner, Dick, couriered it to Manila for me, he just put the charges onto my account, which was still in his computer system. I had meant to repay him this time round but he didn’t seem to be around. Anyway, this was a good way to handle it, and as I paid my slate was wiped clean. I hate having outstanding debts and loose ends.

Made a flight booking for a few weeks down the road. Had some Filipino street food for lunch. The street food is actually not half bad here – basic, but generally tasty. The stuff you find in restaurants is often less appealing – I guess the food doesn’t really translate well into a more upscale/formal dining experience. Sitting on a stool on a street corner shoveling rice and pork adobo into your mouth can be an enjoyable experience, as long as you don’t do it every day…

Hung out at SM Mall for a couple hours. I had checked out of Kiwi Lodge and had some time to kill. I despise that expression, frankly, and rarely find that I have ‘time to kill.’ If I have a book to read, that’s time well spent. But right now I was between books, I was checked out, and I had no pressing errands before my flight. So aimless mall wandering was it. Had a buko (coconut) juice shake and people-watched for a while. Looked in my daypack for my passport, which I hadn’t used in a couple weeks; wanted to make sure it was in there. It was not in the usual compartment, and that concerned me. I had a vague memory of shoving it into another part of the pack, and looked there. No dice. Finally, I emptied out the main part of the pack, took out the plastic bag lining, and there was the passport at the very bottom. Whew. I had already started to mentally cycle through a trip to the nearest US consultate, passport photocopy in hand – and I’d possibly have missed my business school reunion in Virginia, the driver of my US trip. Disaster averted. I really do need to be better about handling my passport…

Here’s why I love the Philippines: in the taxi to the airport, I made some small talk with the driver, who didn’t seem that chatty or proficient in English, for that matter. Then the song ‘It’s Not Unusual’ came on the radio. The driver turned to me and said ‘Is Tom Jones still alive?’ I replied ‘yes’ and grinned. Sometimes the Philippines is the twilight zone and funny little things happen to you there.

Noticed at the airport, while checking in, that the desk agents don’t ask you the old post 9-11 questions anymore. ‘Did you pack your bags yourself?’ and ‘Has anyone had access to your bags since you packed them?’ Etc. The questions were always stupid – the bad guys wouldn’t spill the beans, right? I always thought the questions were only designed to remove as much legal liability from the airlines as possible. Now they ask no questions – we can only hope that security measures have improved to the extent that there’s less bullshit and more screening.

As I waited to board my flight to Hong Kong, I noticed that the television in front of the waiting area was showing the end of that day’s Red Sox-Yankees game. I had already read about it online, so knew that the Sox won…but I still was happy to watch it and see for myself. Our relief pitcher, Okajima, got a couple tough outs…then there was a long rain delay, which the station skipped over, and finally our closer Papelbon struck out the reigning MVP, Rodriguez, and we won the game. I wasn’t the only interested party, either – scores of Filipinos were crowding round the TV watching the tense end-game. Again, the country is like the twilight zone and sometimes you feel like you’re back home, but surrounded by slightly different people…

Already another baseball season. Didn’t seem that long since I’d watched the final World Series games from last season, from the comfort of my (pricey) Apollo Hotel room in Mumbai. Come to think of it, baseball is a pretty helpful way of marking time for me – I don’t have that many true milestones and matching up my meanderings with the baseball season and its own highlights is an interesting methodology…

Got to HKG on time. Rode the train into town, then got in a cab to my hotel – a place I’d never heard of, called, bizarrely enough, Mingle on the Wing, booked for me by friend/financial advisor Yuhin. The cabbie was deeply clueless and it took a while to get to the proper place – I had to make him call the hotel eventually. I dropped off my stuff in the tiny room – still priced at nearly US$100, despite the room being cozy by even Japanese standards. Then went out to meet old colleague Torsten for a few beers. It was nearly midnight, Sunday, but Torsten was still keen to meet and so was I.

I love dropping into big cities and meeting friends – the enormity of the world and our ability to navigate it rapidly are both apparent in these situations. I suppose that I’ll always have a tough time staying in one place – you might recall that towards the end of my 3+ months in Goa, I was getting antsy. The best antidote is a good road trip and a few beers with an old buddy…so Torsten and I spent a couple hours spread across bars in Lan Kwai Fong and Wan Chai. We had a good chat and updated each other on near-term plans. I finally stumbled back to my hotel around 3 a.m., needing to get up in 3-4 hours to catch my onward flight to New York. This was just a quick night (or half night) in HKG, but I knew, as always, that it’s one of my favorite places and I still miss it.

My flight to NYC on Cathay Pacific was surprisingly comfortable and enjoyable. I was in coach class, but the seat was large and spacious, nobody was in the adjacent seat, and the selection of on-demand movies was excellent. The flight was almost 15 hours, but it went by quickly and was probably the best trans-Pacific flight I’ve ever taken. Kudos to CX for providing a good experience.

Watched a bunch of movies en route, including ‘The Diving Bell & the Butterfly,’ by a French editor who had a stroke and became ‘locked in,’ i.e. he was almost completely paralyzed except for the ability to move/blink one of his eyes. He was able, under the care of an innovative speech therapist, to communicate by blinking, dictated a book, and died 12 days after it was published. Now it’s a movie, and quite something – really makes you think about what you’ve got and what you don’t need.

Landed in JFK. The place looks a little better each time, and they seem to be a bit more welcoming. Clearing Immigration was quick, the bags took some time but I got out of there within 40 minutes – not bad. Got into Manhattan, dropped my stuff at friend Todd’s apartment, and went out.

Maybe this is a case of ‘if I didn’t believe it with my own mind, I never would have seen it,’ but it seemed to me that there were quite a few austere, hangdog faces on middle-aged suits in the city. Employees of Bear Stearns, or other banks waiting for their turn to come? Perhaps. I was thankful not to be in that game, at least not right now – it must be very ugly.

Went down to J&R Music World and bought a new Treo 680 smartphone. Not cheap for an unlocked version, but worth it. I spent another couple hours setting it up – between different versions of Palm software and Windows Vista, it was a near-disaster. Thankfully I had backed up all my data on a memory card, because the installation of new Palm Desktop software erased what I had backed up on my laptop. I despise setting up new devices – there’s always some hitch. Why can’t vendors get their act together and be in front of new OS launches? I don’t think it would be that hard, and their customers would appreciate the support. No wonder Palm stock is way down, and Apple is eating their lunch. The only reason I stick with Treos is that the switching costs/pain of getting my data over to a new system would be even more painful than upgrading within the Treo line itself. Ugh.

One of the best things about the USA these days? Mennen Speed Stick, only $2.99.

Went out that night for buffalo wings with old friends Ray and Bryan. Had some good laughs with them – Bryan and I wound up staying out fairly late and I knew the next day I’d feel heinous. Three hours sleep in HKG, three in NYC. Something had to give, despite my infamous energy.

Todd, my host, couldn’t join us, but I saw him first thing in the morning, before I went to catch my train to Boston. He works for Morgan Stanley, and has some tales to tell. I think he’d be better off retiring and becoming a sports agent or something like that.

In a cab en route to Penn Station, I saw a huge pile of horse shit on the street. Probably police horses. Was I already back in India?

Before I forget…my USA trip was prompted by my 15^th business school reunion, and by my desire to see my family. It had been 8 months since my last trip home, and that’s a fairly long time. So here I was, checking back in.

The train ride to Boston was about 4 hours, and I spent nearly all of it reviewing the entire set of photos I’ve taken since I started this journey in May 2006. I got rid of some duds and dupes, and was flooded with memories from places like Burma and Oz. It’s not that natural a move to go back and review all the photos, or blog entries, but I should make sure to do it once in a while so that I maintain perspective.

The Amtrak train was significantly more comfortable, and hygienic, than its Indian counterparts. That was a relief.

Got to Boston, got my rental car, and drove home to Newton. Talked with my step-mother for a couple hours – she recently had surgery, but has recovered remarkably well and if I hadn’t known about her situation, I wouldn’t have been able to notice any difference at all.

Took it easy that night – my lack of sleep, enthusiastic drinking, and jet lag proved a lethal trifecta. Had dinner with Dad and Ellen and caught them up on things. Then I collapsed around 11 p.m. and slept till 7 a.m. Best sleep I’ve had in a long time.

The next day I did a round of errands. Storage room – got some clothes for my reunion. REI – bought some near gear for traveling. Noticed a Sikh (gurdwara) temple right next to the storage facility I use. Sikhs in Milford, Mass. – unreal. And kind of cool.

I drove to Hopkinton to see my sis and nephew. Spent a couple hours hanging out with them – got covered in chalk and bubbles courtesy of my nephew. Kids are messy creatures. And my sis has a baby girl on the way, so in a couple weeks it’s double trouble at her house.

Had dinner again that night with Dad and Ellen. Lots of different meats – steak tips, roast turkey, and briscuit. Haven’t consumed that much meat in memory – it was damn good. To work it off, I walked into Newton Center to see my old classmate Alex. He’s looking for some contacts in healthcare and I know a few people. I’d much rather help him find a job than get one myself!

That was a long enough day. Slept well again, and got up to pack for my trip south, to Washington and then Virginia. Flew to DC and rented a car, then drove out to Great Falls to see my old buddy Blaze. Had fun catching up with him; we also called a couple fellow fraternity brothers and shared war stories. Blaze is one of most accomplished and switched-on friends and I wish I could see more of him.

Slept chez Blaze that evening, under the influence of some strong malt liquor. Drove the next morning to Charlottesville, Virginia, home of the Darden School. I graduated Darden 15 years ago, and haven’t missed a reunion yet – despite having to traverse some serious distances to get there every 5 years. I’d actually been to Cville 2 years before, just before I got on the road, so it hadn’t been too long.

Sent a text to my classmate Ed, who lives in Cville – we decided to head to the Bellaire Deli to eat one of their brilliant Keswick sandwiches. This deli is part of an Exxon station, and the standing joke is that no other Exxon serves such great food. The Keswick is on a baguette, and comprises cured Virginia ham, lettuce, tomato, cheese (I forget which type), and a honey mustard dressing. Perhaps my favorite sandwich in the world. Old housemate Ray (who I had just seen in NYC) and I used to compete on who could eat more over the course of the year – we kept a chart on the fridge at our farmhouse second year. I think we tied that year…but he blew off this reunion and now I’m way ahead.

I stopped at Bodo’s Bagels before the Bellaire to grab some coffee – I was starting to flag and needed the energy to keep up with a few of my hardier classmates. I also stopped at the Court House Tavern for a beer – just to be sure. My old law school girlfriend and I used to drink at this place back in 1991-2, and I’ve always had fond memories of it (and a few of her too).

The reunion weekend was absolutely terrific. Not a great turnout, but enough good people. And the lack of turnout made it realistic to catch up with nearly everyone in a substantial manner – helpful because I hadn’t seen some of these people in 15 years. We all met for dinner at Vivace, an Italian place, then went over to old fave The Biltmore, where the pitchers were flowing freely. From there, it got a bit ugly – I believe we went across the street to Coupe de Ville’s, then to the White Spot for a few Gusburgers (burger with fried egg on top). Chris and I each ate two – not a wise move. Somewhere along the way, Meredith had picked up an undergrad girl and she was insane enough to hang out with us for a couple hours. I won’t release the more incriminating photos (there are a few dodgy videos as well), but here are a few photos from the pub crawl:

The next morning was a bit hairy – even more so for classmate Chris, who evidently didn’t drink his RDA of water before going to bed and had a brutal headache. I had made sure to 1) call my lady friend in the Philippines, and 2) drink about 7 glasses of water before passing out. I don’t recall much of the phone call, but I made it and as Woody Allen likes to say, showing up is 80% of life.

After breakfast I drove over to Darden to hear the Dean speak, and to see Barbara, the former Director of Student Affairs who now heads the MBA for Executives program. Barbara and I hit it off very well in my first year – I think at parents’ weekend she and my dad were talking, he found out she’s from New Hampshire, and that got things going. Anyway, she and I have stayed in touch and I always try to catch up with her when in town.

The Dean’s speech was fine, nothing earth-shattering. On our way out of the auditorium I ran into classmate Joe – last time we’d met was at our 10^th reunion. Joe and I once went on a major league canoe trip in Ontario with 3 other guys, and we still laugh about the craziness of that trip today.

Chris was still stumbling around, hungover. Poor guy.

Noticed at one point that I no longer had my camera. Torture. Looked around…went back to the auditorium…no dice. I wasn’t super-worried, given the affluent nature of the crowd. Still, the thing is worth a bit of scratch and I wanted to locate it pronto. Went to the reunion reception area and it was right there, waiting to be claimed. Bravo.

That night our class had dinner with two professors – Spekman and Eades. They were probably my 2 favorite profs back in the day, and they’ve maintained a connection with our class. They caught us up on school gossip, I gave a short speech given my history as class comedian/newspaper humor editor, then the dinner concluded and we went to the party outside. They put on a good fireworks show, then we hit the bar and did a little dancing. Chris had his camera out and was showing everyone some fairly compromising shots of me and others from our pub crawl the night before. I got a lot of shit from classmates, even though I hadn’t really been that naughty. I would have preferred more naughtiness and more ribbing, honestly…but it was all in good fun. And I was loving life – I wouldn’t dream of missing one of these reunions, to me they’re an important part of life. Seeing old friends, taking the time to assess where you are in life, sharing stories – why else are we here, anyway?

Took it relatively easy that night. Next morning Danny and I went to our farewell brunch, then I got in my car and drove west. I wanted to pay homage to a few places: my second year residence, the Yule Farm…Crozet Pizza, home of some fine pizza pies…and finally to the little town of Batesville, where I’d never been. Barbara at Darden had told me that my old professor Cid owned a general store in Batesville, and I was semi-desperate to go see him.

Backstory: Cid was the head of the Analysis & Communications team at Darden, and taught us public speaking and critical writing. I was a former journalist and thought myself a great writer – but I learned a lot from Cid nonetheless. So did everyone else, and he was consistently voted a top prof by his students.

The administration felt differently, and after he had made a few rogue comments he was unceremoniously ousted. A huge student-administration fight ensued, but the school won the battle, including the lawsuit that followed. Cid faded into the woodwork, probably bitter that his favorite students didn’t do something radical like quit the program. I signed petitions and spoke my mind, as did others, but we wanted to get our degrees and not torpedo our futures, so we were limited in our responses and actions. I gave our class’s commencement speech, and had reviewed it with Cid beforehand. He had wanted me to insert some comments about him – even just a veiled reference to a ‘Jewish socialist writing professor’ or the like. I considered doing so, but given the likely audience of 2,000 people and what I thought they deserved to hear, I kept the vitriol and politics out. I don’t know if he heard the speech, but ever since then he’s been incommunicado. I’ve sent emails…two years ago I left a voicemail…no reply.

So now I’d heard that he was operating a store in Batesville, ominously enough, and I hoped to swing by and see him. Wasn’t at all sure how he’d react, but I played a few rounds in my head and felt confident I could handle nearly any response. I walked in just after noon, when they opened the store, and saw Cid – naturally looking 15 years older – behind the counter. I didn’t identify myself right away, I perused the merchandise and chatted generically with him, giving him a few indirect openings. He didn’t bite. I finally asked him if I looked familiar – right away he said that I did. I told him my name, that rang a big bell, and we shook hands. He did ask me if my class was ‘the one that got him fired,’ and I just said I was 1993. The previous class and my class probably shared any culpability, although his comments back then were unbidden and I don’t see how we’re actually guilty. Anyway, he opened up and was friendly, and seemed happy enough that I stopped by. I think that, like most people, Cid welcomes attention, but if it’s via email or voicemail it’s not that real – you have to see him in person for him to really warm up.

I have to say that this was a therapeutic experience for me. Cid had a real impact on my life and how I communicate, then he ‘went away’ and rejected me (and other Darden students and faculty, of course), and for years I’ve had an empty space where he once stood. I had pretty much given up on ever seeing him again, but now, unexpectedly, we were hanging out together. We talked about other classmates and about our lives. He and his wife bought the store a few years ago and have done a great job – it’s a beautiful place and obviously run with TLC. I’m not surprised. He asked me to tell another classmate, Ed, to come by – perhaps Cid is finally coming to grips with his past and the importance of keeping some of that period alive. Or maybe I’m just fooling myself. I don’t know. All I know is that seeing Cid made this reunion the best one yet, and gave me a bit of additional faith in humanity. I’ll send him an email sometime soon (he gave me his biz card). Not sure if he’ll reply…either way, next time I’m in Cville I’ll drive over to Batesville to see my old professor. I’ll take whatever he can give – I’m not greedy.

My life has lots of different pieces – and most of them keep me on my toes. They’re often hard to fit together, there’s often a lack of synergy, but I like having a lot going on. Seems like that’s likely to continue. See you next week. Over and out.

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